Monday, 12 May 2014

Where did you sleep last night - Mother's Day Weekend

I've been told that women forget the bad parts of pregnancy, labour and the challenging days of infanthood because the survival of the human species is dependant on it. Apparently the same thing can be said about Mother's Day weekend in our house when Chris and I completely forget the way that my children make us earn our titles of parents in some sort of deranged test. Last year we were tested by illness. I couldn't find any record of the year before that, but because of my complete momnesia I can only assume the worst.

On Friday at daycare pick-up, the minions had Mother's day presents waiting for me on top of their cubbies. As we approached our car, Molly decided she wanted to hold all of the presents, including two plates, each containing cupcakes (one for mommy and one for the respective child). Knowing that Molly acting as "the keeper of the cupcakes", would be a disaster I assured her that I would hold onto them and we would enjoy them together with tea, all four of us, when we got home. That was not the correct answer. Molly had a complete meltdown and screamed all the way home about how Mommy was going to eat all the cupcakes herself and Molly wasn't going to get any. Chris chimed in, "Mommy shares everything with you, what makes you think that this will be different?" The theatrics escalated and got so intense that Molly was given a timeout as soon as we got home.

I know what you're thinking...

There is nothing more appetizing than food prepared and decorated by toddlers.

When we presented the cupcakes, both children ate the icing and threw away the cake "husks" and began playing quietly. Eventually the kids will learn that Chris and I would never eat their food in front of them. We wait until they go to bed like any sane parents.

Since Jack moved into "a big boy bed" on Saturday, sleeping has been a challenge in the house. Both children have been sleeping poorly and tottering on the edge of bleary eyed/sleepy mean since their graduation from cribs. Thankfully, they both behaved on Saturday while we prepared and enjoyed a lunch with my mom.

Later, nap time comprised of:

Jack knocking an end table over by opening the drawers and using them as stairs.

Both minions trashed the nursery like they were rock stars fuelled on whiskey at a four star hotel

And the coup de grâce on Sunday afternoon, Chris caught both children trying to climb into their wardrobe as if it were the gateway to Narnia.

The floor post-nap time Saturday.

But they eventually fell asleep and this is why they're forgiven....

Sunday we were awoken at 6AM by Jack who had fallen out of his bed, AGAIN. Chris took the shift because it was mother's day and he wanted to let me sleep in, which was hard to do after being awoken by the blood curdling screams of a toddler. My mommy spider senses just wouldn't shut down. Then Chris attempted to make me breakfast, cinnamon bun pancakes, while the over-tired toddlers spun around the house. They were delicious, despite Jack's refusal to eat because this wasn't really the "cake" he felt he had been promised. Later we went for a walk along the lake to enjoy the weather and eventually collapsed onto the couch exhausted on Sunday evening.

Every day, Molly and Jack change so much and even though parenting can be extremely frustrating, I'm so happy that we can celebrate together as a team. I am also thankful that all four of our parents (and one grandmother) are able to watch Molly and Jack grow-up and that by next year I will have completely forgotten about the weekend the minions refused to sleep. Happy Mother's Day: may your selective memories prevail!

About Me

My favorite colour is purple, I love dance-offs and making up diabolical plans that I find humorous in an evening over drinks that I have no real interest in carrying out. I love New York after my love for Toronto. I wasn't so sure about this parenthood thing, but my kids are pretty charming and raising them with my husband/ super friend Chris is the cherry on the sundae.